We human beings are vulnerable creatures. No other creature needs tending and nurturing for as long as we human beings do. Most creatures are fending for themselves within a few hours, though some need a year. But no other creature is as dependent upon adult creatures for nurturing and protection. We need almost two decades before we take on adult responsibilities. Then even as adults we are vulnerable. We don’t have the hard shell of a tortoise, or the claws and jaws of a lion, or the stealth of a cougar or the power of a grizzly.

 

We like to think that we have it covered, that we can protect ourselves with all the measures we take. But underneath we know just how vulnerable we are. Imagine, then, what it is like for our children. Imagine their sense of vulnerability. Maybe you have a childhood memory of feeling vulnerable and alone. I remember our boys going through times when suddenly they seemed to be afraid of more things and holding back more on venturing forth to play. David and I would knowingly nod to each other and say, “Their world just got bigger.” Suddenly, overnight, their consciousness of the world around them seemed to expand, and they became aware in a new way of just how vulnerable they are. Gradually they would live into their newly expanded awareness and begin to take it in stride.

 

The moments were poignant when our two boys grew in their awareness of the world and how small they were in comparison. They stuck closer to us. They needed more hugs and more conversation. They craved our reassurance that all would be okay. They saw us as strong protectors in the midst of this big, new, overwhelming world. And that’s what we had to step up to be, until they felt more comfortable navigating their expanded universe.

 

Have you noticed that in your own child or grandchildren? It’s the two year old clinging to you when you’re trying to get the laundry and vacuuming done. It’s the six year old who comes home from Grade One and wants to cuddle with you in a favourite chair, just at a time when you know you need to get a meal on the table. It’s the 10 year old who suddenly doesn’t want to go to their hockey practice or dance class, doing everything to convince you that they should stay home with you. It’s the teen who is hanging around, not saying much, just hanging around wherever you are.

 

While their behaviour can seem a nuisance, especially when we have our own agendas to accomplish, I invite you to wonder about how vulnerable your child might be feeling. Has their consciousness of the world suddenly expanded leaving them feeling vulnerable and alone, and desperate for reassurance that mom or dad, grandma or grandpa, are there for them?

 

Remembering the sense of vulnerability our children naturally feel, we need to get ahead of them and give them more than they ask for, so that they can rest in our love and our presence.   Don’t wait until they ask for a hug – say, “I have a big hug for you right now!” and surprise them with hugs throughout the day. Pay attention, and provide time together, cuddling, conversation, favourite activities before they even express a need. Get a head of your child and provide more connection time and loving time than they can begin to ask for or even imagine.

 

This might seem like a lot of work, when you want to get a meal on the table or stop a child from being so clingy or get out the door to a meeting. But the more loving connection you give without the child asking, the sooner they’ll be satisfied and ready to venture forth on their own. The only answer to our feelings of vulnerability is someone who loves us in a big way. That’s what we are there to do as parents – love our children more than they can ask. Not with gifts or toys or activities, but with our own presence. When they can rest in our love, the big world will not be so scary and they will gain the confidence and resilience they need. What a privilege to do that for our kids!

Adventures in Parenting               October 22, 2014                                ©Susan Lukey 2014

Last modified on Tuesday, 30 September 2025